I love traveling. I think that one is obvious. I love getting to know a place and its people. To spend time, lots of time in a place. To become so familiar with the area that you no longer have to look at a map for directions, that you’ve found the best place for groceries, that you know where the quietest beaches are and the ones with the softest sands, that the shuttle bus driver wishes everyone ‘happy shopping’ when he drops them off but tells you ‘happy walking’ because he knows you’re on a budget and that’s what you do all day. I love to be able to sleep in some mornings because you can and you have the time. I love routine. I love when tourists stop me and ask for directions because I look like I belong. I love when you realize a new place is starting to feel like home. I love my comfort zone.
I also love discovering new places. I love seeing something for the first time: that’s a feeling that can’t be beat. New foods, new people, new stories. And that feeling you get when you’re just about to leave the safety of that comfort zone, those fluttering butterflies and that knot in your stomach, well I hate it, but really, I love that too. Why? Because THAT is traveling. That is living outside your comfort zone.
I am exceedingly fortunate to have the luxury and flexibility to enjoy the two sides of traveling i love. So now, after one month in the same exact spot, its time to shake the dust off the old backpack and hit the road.